


Crayon Box

by lou96



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asylum settings, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Levi/Eren Yeager, Falling In Love, Freedom, I Don't Even Know, Levi/Eren Yeager-centric, M/M, Painfully Soft, Patient Eren Yeager, compassion - Freeform, rirentober 2020, sometimes it is better to accept rather than fight... or so we thought
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lou96/pseuds/lou96
Summary: Rirentober 2020 day 7: Color"Unlock gate 1225."One of the men had spoken on their walkie-talkie. They stopped in front of a small door, the white hallway bathing still in an invisible fire. His body was maintained firmly on the floor, his arms were raised to heaven like a fallen angel seeking to fly again.Slowly, as if someone scraped their nails on a green board, the door opened from the side. The walls and floor appeared white, but covered with an upholstery fabric. The room was empty of any object except a toilet.There was no bed, no window, noexit."Welcome home, Eren."
Relationships: Levi & Eren Yeager, Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: Ererictober





	1. Clipping Process

~ _Monsters stuck in your head_.~

The low voice of an unknown singer was quietly playing at the radio as they passed the front doors of the reception. The cold wind of the outside had been replaced by the warm temperature of the building. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary but the calm was usually a deceiving enemy. 

~ _Monsters under your bed.~_

Maybe he shouldn’t have believed them.

He was scared and hungry. The time had seemed to come to an end. But he needed to hang on to something, _anything_ even if it was a mere illusion. He couldn’t see what was around him. Everything was pitch black, and the sounds surrounding him were deafening in his ears. He tried to be optimistic but why lie to himself? Even God didn’t care for someone like him.

His body was being led into a long hallway but the Devil’s entry would have been a better description. The cries of the men and women were loud, angry, pitiful to be sent free again. They seemed to curse the sky, asking why they had been forgotten by their own creator. He let his feet be dragged on the ground. The men had claimed his submission by raising his arm above his head.

How to carry on with life when you never actually had one?

The grey cement floor was cold under his bruised feet. Some men in uniforms were leading him to the bottom of the chasm. His head was kept low but that wouldn’t have made a difference. Maybe he had forgotten to pray when he was young? 

Everything was painful. His shoulders, arms, back and legs but the worst was his head. The red mark of his blood was imprinted on the floor as he continued to be carried like an old bag of dirty laundry. He was no longer treated like a human being.

~ _We are monsters. Oh, oh.~_

There was no need for shoes nor stockings here. The clothes they had forced on him were white, clean and had the appetizing smell of fresh meat. The black headband covering his eyes allowed him to see a glimpse of his future. He could see the legs of men carrying him advancing relentlessly, passing every door, every glittering lock. His heartbeat was through the roof, the door numbers finally appeared in his field of vision. 

The last thought of getting free had left his mind. He knew something terrible was coming, his body starting to get heavier and heavier at every step. The two hands under his arms tightened their grip. The pain was a familiar friend but it didn’t help him better understand what was happening. He wished this could slow down the march to his end. 

Hell or a silly dream?

A faint moan escaped from his dry, chapped lips. His stomach had long stopped screaming its hunger, nothing could satisfy its needs. His fingers were getting numb as they were held high in the air, gravity preventing the blood from circulating freely. The beats of his heart weren’t strong enough to get this warm and red liquid necessary for his survival to spread all over his body. On the opposite, his feet were heavy by the weight of his shame, his regrets, his _capitulation._

His nose had stopped bleeding but he could still taste the metallic flavour of iron in his mouth. The cries of the men and women were pleading for mercy. His head was unable to rise, even his hands had lost the ability to move. Maybe this was it. 

Yeah, he had fallen into the cave of a hungry bear. 

"Stop stirring!" A violent kick to his side cut off the little air remaining in his lungs. He heard the hatred, bossy voice of one of the men carrying him. 

"You wanna get another shot?" The question didn’t seem to be one. It was a sweet threat, a promise that he wouldn’t have a choice in the future. 

They start walking again, but this time his carriers added an almost intolerable pressure under his arms swollen by blood and despair. The lamentations on the doors were getting louder as they moved past every single door in the hallway. _Monsters._ They were all monsters. Insults, tears, and blood were the only way of communications between those walls. 

"Unlock gate _1225_." One of the men had spoken on their walkie-talkie. They stopped in front of a small door, the white hallway bathing still in an invisible fire. His body was maintained firmly on the floor, his arms were raised to heaven like a fallen angel seeking to fly again.

Slowly, as if someone scraped their nails on a green board, the door opened from the side. The walls and floor appeared white, but covered with an upholstery fabric. The room was empty of any object except a toilet. 

There was no bed, no window, no _exit_. 

He stayed on his knees, there was nowhere to hide. The lonely pain made him bent on the floor. The men let go of his arms, not wanting to touch him longer than necessary. His cold hands trembled under the sudden wave of heat passing through his lifeless skin. He was hardly able to remove his headband from his eyes.

It was more and more difficult to breath. Holding back his cries was something he was used to but this time, it took him everything to rise beyond his weaker state. The bright light above his head forced him to look down again. The black tissue that covered his eyes was now on the immaculate floor of the room.

His room closed loudly under the pressure exerted by the automated mechanism. _Click!_ The sound of the lock was the only indication that all of this was not just another nightmare. Nothing matters anymore _._

The little window of his door opened brusquely. An unknown and ugly figure appeared to look at him. Their smile was disdainful and their eyes shouted a red rage, probably wishing they could beat him to death. A section of yellow teeth showed as they announced the final verdict.

"Welcome home, Eren.”

The little window closed on his only chance to see another living being. Indeed, Eren was going to have to live locked up here _again_. The sound of his cries echoed on the padded walls. He still hadn't moved from his kneel position, but what good would it do? He was going to stay in a white nightmare the rest of his miserable life. Never again will he see the blue sky, the leaves of the green trees changing during the spring, or the first snow of a winter morning. 

His world now boiled down to watching and fixing the emptiness of a room without texture, nor color. He should never have gone back here. What had it done to deserve it this time? Endless were his tears, his body shivered under the threat of this intimate prison. 

The wings of his freedom had been cut off. He couldn’t remember the hallway anymore nor the number of his room. His mind wasn’t able to process anything but this yellow smile. He was back in this cage. The screams of its many previous victims before him seemed to have tainted the walls. 

This time it would be his last home. Eren was going to survive and most certainly die _here_.

The memory of him being a kid was vague. But never could he forget the night his family had sent him here for a month. He was only 10 years old at the time but he couldn’t forget his terrifying nights locked in a similar white room. If his parents were asked to describe Eren as a child, _difficult_ would have been the only word on their lips. 

His mother Carla was a pleasant woman but she had stopped smiling over time. Eren could go from one state to another in a flash of a second. Younger he could be cheerful and happy and then, a second after his rage was such that no one could resonate with him. Carla and Grisha no longer knew what to do as the years passed. His crises were more and more violent and repeated. 

The young boy would cry, scream and fight with anyone who came too close to him. These were not ordinary tantrums, it was as if a faceless evil was possessing his small body. Eren’s parents' despair was evident, nothing could explain the reason for his madness. His parents would never admit it to him but everyone knew they were afraid during those moments.

Being in the medical field, Grisha had told his colleagues about his son in search of answers. To no avail, several specialists had come to the house to observe Eren but none seemed to be able to help him. They had tried everything; herbal teas before bed, competitive sports, punishments, a sleeping routine, stress balls, informal therapy sessions with a psychiatrist coming over. Even his diet, or tried confrontation by using a doll to explain to Eren what he was doing wrong but nothing worked. Carla had refused any medication, not wanting her boy to be on antidepressants or psychose meds all his life.

It was when they went to a conference on childhood disorders that they found the answer to their prayers. Kenny Ackerman was the guest speaker for the Mental & Anxiety Disorders Association, also called **MAD** association.

The man was someone hard not to notice; he spoke loudly, always wearing a dinosaur hunter hat and a long beige coat even though he was inside. He had long brown hair reaching his shoulders, a beard of a few days, and his clothes resembled those of mercenaries in the deserts of warring countries. Eren's parents hadn’t initially seemed interested in listening to his presentation. 

Only a particular sentence made them turn their gazes towards the eccentric man on the big stage before them.

“My sister was mentally ill before she died, and I did nothing to help her.” 

Kenny had looked far ahead in front of him, his eyes covered by the fury and sadness of his confession. Carla and Grisha had listened to the man's story of how his younger sister had taken her own life.

“I didn't understand at the time. After the birth of her son, Kuchel had sunk.” Kenny had come down from the stage to slowly walk in front of the few hundred people who listened attentively to him. 

“She wasn't there at all. Her mind seemed elsewhere as she was struggling to take care of her boy and herself. Often I had to go and get her son when she called me in the middle of the night or during the day.” 

Carla could only hold Grisha's hand. She felt a painful sensation in her chest, the story of a woman she will never meet weighting in her mind.

“...She told me she would never hurt Levi but she couldn't help but sometimes hate him. Kuchel loved his son, there was no doubt in my mind.” The man had taken a cold tone as he continued without a break. “But sometimes she forgot for a moment who was Levi. It was a brief yet terrifying thing. Kuchel had started consuming drugs, then drinking to slow down her fall.”

Grisha had his eyes set on Kenny, a man in appearance annoying and disturbing, but who was now emptying his soul in front of an audience. Why was he sad for a woman he didn’t know? Grisha already knew the answer. He was _afraid_ to see himself in a few years telling the story of his son Eren.

He felt a lump in his throat, already imagining a dark future for his boy that had begun to change before his eyes.

“I tried to talk to her about it at first, see if maybe it was a debt or a gambling problem. Kuchel never wanted to talk about it. Her answer was always the same _I'm fine_.” Kenny now had a nostalgic smile on his face, probably remembering these simple words. 

“I didn't do anything in the end. She told me not to intervene, that she was going to make it on her own, but I should have insisted.” The room full of people was silent, trying to picture how this story could end in a happy one.

“She had entrusted Levi to me on a weekday evening, nothing unusual considering that her episodes could be at any time.” 

“I got a call the next morning as I was driving Levi to school." Kenny was back on the stage facing his audience again. “Kuchel's body had been found in the waters very early that same morning. She had no note, nor anything explaining her gesture. She had just jumped off the bridge.” 

Kenny’s voice didn’t shake one bit when he continued.

“My sister was sick.” His hands were behind his back, and his head was straight ahead as he seemed to free himself from an immense burden on his shoulders. “She needed help, she would have needed someone to lean on.” Goosebumps were all over Carla and Grisha’s arms, Kenny was not far from them now. 

“I wish I had said something when I had the chance.”

Eren's parents remained nailed to their chairs while the various signs recognized depression and other mental disorders were shown. The presentation came to an end, several people around them had tears in their eyes as they listened to the story about Kuchel. 

Kenny finished his presentation with a glance of hope for the audience.

“Several years following Kuchel's death, I found the solution.” The silence was dreadful as everyone held their breath. “A place that'll be the cradle for those who have lost hope of getting better.” 

Kenny pressed the remote to show the last slide of his power point. Carla and Grisha could only stare at what appeared before them. The screen was black, a single phrase in bright white letters was written on it. A new spark of interest formed into their troubled minds. 

_Welcome to the Ackerman asylum._


	2. Upon the silence

It was in early adolescence that Eren realized something was wrong. Memory loss, bruises, blood on his clothes were the only thing he recalled from that time. His parents had made him do his education at home. He was all the time with an adult, never really alone.

Claiming it was for the best, Eren had never been allowed to socialize with people his age. He could see from his bedroom window children from the neighborhood playing basketball in the street. Their laughs were joyful, carefree, _annoying_. As if they were louder in purpose just so to piss him off. Eren would have preferred never meeting them.

_“Hi, my name is Armin.”_

A small boy with blond hair had approached Eren as he was taking out the trash on the road. Armin had those big yet very kind blue eyes that looked at him carefully, curiosity evident in his quiet voice. 

_“What about you?”_ Eren had froze on the spot, not knowing how to speak. The only people he was talking to were his parents.

_“Armin!”_ A woman's voice was heard across the street. The two young boys had both turned in the direction of the angry voice. The lady was small, blonde like Armin but her face was one of fear and disgust as she spoke. “ _Get away from that thing!”_

The air had immediately turned cold around the boys, like winter had taken over summer. Armin's now sad and frightened gaze met Eren's confused one as the other slowly walked away. Eren had remained by the black trash, an uneasy feeling in the chest had kept him from simply going back to his house. Unconsciously hoping to make a friend that day.

Armin had looked one last time at Eren as his mother had grabbed his arm to bring back to their house, his lips had formed a single word only; _sorry_.

The rest had remained blurry in his mind, did he run away or simply gone back inside? Eren had not tried to make sense of this small incident but the words of that woman had haunted him nights after. He was nothing more than a _thing_. Why was he sad? Why was he scared to go out again?

The answer had never been important, all that mattered was to stay invisible . It was easier to be forgotten than hated, so Eren becomes more and more silent over the years. He repulsed everything inside. His grief, his joy, his _voice_.

Often during the day, Eren had moments of unconsciousness. He was with his parents, in his room, in the backyard, and the next minute, he woke up in his bed in the middle of the night with cold sweat and shivers all over his small body. 

Maybe there was hope but salvation had never been an option for him.

“Eren?”

The voice seemed the fruit of his imagination as he sat still. His mind revived this awful moment, the lump in his throat never left him since that day, since he had seen the accusatory gaze of Armin's mother on him. “Eren, did you hear me?”

He looked up at the doctor talking in front of him, a _psychiatrist._ They were in his cell, sitting on the white floor as they maintained a safe distance from each other. The man in a white coat had blonde hair cut short, massive shoulders under a tight gray shirt giving the hint of a muscular body with a titan force, and strong legs neatly folded to casually sit. He seemed quite comfortable to converse alone while behind him stood an equally impressive figure. 

The security guard had no imposing nor very tall physique, but her sky-blue eyes were harsh, unfathomable, _dangerous_. The woman was small in stature, her hair tied in a ponytail was blond like his psychiatrist's, and her face expressed no emotion but her gaze did not leave Eren's stealthy one.

Her eyes seemed to tell him arrogantly _“Don't even think about it.”_ Eren was maybe crazy but not suicidal in the extent of wanting to take on this person. 

“I'm Dr. Reiner Braun.” The man smiled as he spoke, probably trying to sound reassuring even though the ice cabinet was still glancing at Eren. “And behind me is Annie.” The woman made a simple nod, her silence only making the situation even more uncomfortable.

The doctor didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air as he continued his incessant blabbering. “I was hoping we could talk today. Do you agree with that?” 

He didn't know what to answer. _Go away._ Dr. Braun had spoken calmly, his smile still bright but his eyes were not smiling. _No._ It was a look that Eren knew all too well. They were calculating, looking for the flaw, the med that could cure his madness without really looking further for the source of his evil. He would rather die than become a puppet.

Eren wasn't well. His eyes pricked him, the tears already wanting to make their way to freedom. His cold hands hid under his thighs in search of comfort that was not there, and the beating of his heart in his skull deafened him. He did not like being caught in a corner with no possibility of escape.

His nails fell into the flesh of his legs, praying it wasn't real. He did not like this man, nor this woman who were both judging him by their stares, who were not really interested in what he had to say.

“Eren, you can just nod if you prefer.” The doctor didn't seem worried about by Eren's unsteady behaviour, on the contrary he sat there with a welcoming smile scotched on his lips. Annie had not left the padded wall of the room, her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes staring without blinking at the beginning of yet another patient’s crisis.

Eren tried to control his breathing, hoping this would end quickly. Everyone around him knew he was not someone to talk to. No one has actually addressed him in _years._ He was used to being bossed around, no direct interaction, or even trying to ask for his opinion.

He only went to high school for the last year to receive his diploma but it had been a nightmare for him, a constant reminder of his lack of social skill. Who would talk to the crazy guy? Eren would have laughed if he wasn’t having a mental breakdown at the moment. 

Reiner said nothing, he could understand that Eren was not going to talk to him. He was not the first patient to show signs of anxiety over verbal interactions. He knew that he should not feel sympathy for his patient but rather a feeling of empathy. But when he had patients like Eren, he could not forget the reason why he continued this work, why he continued even though his head was heavy with secrets and heartbreaking scenes. 

The man in the white coat did not look behind him, he knew that Annie could not take her eyes off the trembling man on the ground. _Abandonment_ was a strong, powerful but equally destructive feeling. Annie and Reiner knew rejection all too well.

Seeing Eren panicked before their eyes, a familiar, yet unwelcome heaviness in their chests prevented them from pushing even more this poor creature. The two of them didn't need to talk about it. They knew they weren't going to let go of Eren; they would be there no matter the reason of his pain. Loneliness was far more scarier than one could think. 

Eren's mind imagined a thousand scenarios at the doctor's sudden silence, it could only mean one thing; _crazy_. He didn't want to be put on a straitjacket and given drugs all his life. But he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to someone _real_. He had locked himself in a prison that he was the only one to hold the key to his freedom.

His hands still cold despite the heat of his thighs came to hide his eyes. A flight of multicolored stars formed under his closed eyelids. Time seemed to halt all together. His father had once explained this phenomenon when he was still just a child. _Phosphene_ is the sensation of seeing light or spots when the eyes are closed. It was sort of like creating arts with the mind.

His chest slowly relaxed as Eren’s breathing reduced in intensity. Sometimes he managed to calm down with this vast rain of colors and lights magically appearing before his eyes but the reason was unknown to him. His outstretched shoulders began to loosen slightly despite his nervosity.

He was trying to prevent his legs from shaking but the people in the room were not helping him. _You are fine._ The beautiful colors began to transform into waves of lighting, his whole body was electrified by this sight yet so familiar to him. _Everything is fine._

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” The voice of Dr.Braun seemed genuine, almost pained to have caused trouble to his patient but Eren wouldn’t be fooled.

He could feel the soft movement of air as the man got up. “I will be more cautious next time.” Eren knew it was not a sign of kindness, _no,_ the doctor was just giving up on him like the others before him. _"W_ _hy can’t you talk?"_ Another wave of disappointment washed over his curled up body.

Maybe everything would stop all at once. 

As the door started to close behind Reiner and Annie, an unexpected melody slowly reached Eren’s ears. It was so distant, almost like another imagination of his but he knew he had never heard something like that before. Gradually, he closed his eyes, tired to fight against himself.

A dream or maybe a memory from his past followed him as Eren fell asleep on the floor. He saw a paradise beach, could feel the burning sand under his feet, and smelled the saltwater in the air. Two kids playing and running around disappeared as he tried to call them. His cheeks were wet from tears but that didn't wake him up, he was used to be alone even in his dreams.

Maybe, _hopefully_ , tomorrow will be his last day. 

* * *

* * *

Somewhere not very far from there, small groups had taken place on designed tables. The sun was hitting the clean windows and shining over the room like any day would do during summer.

The quiet yet so familiar noise of the red top cover opening made some patients’ heads turn. Dozens of drawings were spread on the walls, creating a tsunami of colors and telling stories that were yet to be said aloud.

Silence had taken over the commune room, like a disease that had finally found its next victim.

The keys under his long fingers were old, used, but soft, reminding him of those lonely nights hidden behind a closed door. His dark hair along with his black shirt and pants were impossible not to notice in this sea of endless white uniforms. Some had gathered their chairs near the red piano, while others had even stopped praying in their corner. 

A small sign escaped the man’s lips, his grey eyes not looking at anything in particular. The back of his nape was the only thing people could see. The tension in his strong shoulders slowly melted away as he pressed the first chords of _her_ favorite song. He didn’t need a music sheet, his entire body knew what to do.

The white and black keys delicately spelled a cast under the maree of trouble spirits, some only living for these moments of quietude before the voices in their head took over their bodies again.

_Nocturnal Waltz_. 

He had never understood why it was this one in particular that she would play all night long. Only after trying it himself did he feel this unbearable nostalgia of youth. It was like a call for love, a call to be loved but no one there to listen to the silent begs of the unwanted.

It was fast, like kids chasing each other on a white sand beach, carefreeness guiding their feet toward a cold blue water. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a drawing of the sea. His heartbeat picked up the pace of his fingers, there was no time left. 

The music got louder, he wasn’t done, not even close to being finished with this song. Maybe as a kid he had been indifferent learning this piece but now older, a burning need to run faster than ever made him lose his breath in the process. His feet were pressing tenderly the left and right pedals, adding color and timbre to the little crowd behind him.

It was not the most difficult nor the longest piece of music but it was the last memory he had of her before that fatal day at the bridge. Since then, he had learned to play. The piano had probably been the only love he had known and accepted in his heart, nothing was above this unrequited love of his. Happiness was a ship that had sailed a long time ago, so why bother to rebuild a new boat now? 

He was a family member, a visitor, and sometimes a phantom for them. It was only a question of time before this place became his next home. Madness was running in his vein, the same devil that had taken his mother away. The air became somehow thick, like honey, making him gasped mentally for air.

He wished the song lasted for hours, days even but that was only a foolish dream of a stupid kid. The last bits of the keys were resonating in the piece, transporting the hearts of those who had failed to come back in one piece. 

Taking a second before letting go of the left pedal, the melody coming from the piano stopped at the same time as he turned around. His gaze went over the patients he knew for years now, most of them having seen him become an adult before their own eyes.

The clock above the door indicated three o’clock, a special time cherished by the veteran of the psychiatric ward. A low, composed voice broke the silence of the room. 

“...So, what should I play next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY 😭🙈 for this delay.
> 
> The way it is written doesn't even feel like my style but I didn't change the chapter format (only added the last POV). Hopefully, this wasn't too weird for now but I will go back into the mindset of the story and update it at a good pace (along with my basketball fic). 
> 
> This is the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2B_-LKov7I&ab_channel=JohannesBornl%C3%B6f-Topic) that Levi was playing at the piano. I love piano songs and I'm a real sucker for anyone who can play an instrument. 
> 
> Love y'all and see you soon 😭❤


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